


Transformation

by boywifebruce



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Castration, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Genital Torture, Grooming, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:08:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22553791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boywifebruce/pseuds/boywifebruce
Summary: Dolarhyde’s chest hurt, and he began to feel the cloying breath of anxiety filling his lungs. No, no, he didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want Hannibal to know he was a freak, didn’t want him to judge him, and end their “sessions”. Hannibal was the one person that could never know about the things he did for the Dragon.But Hannibal didn’t seem disconcerted or put off in any way, even as the pieces aligned themselves before his eyes. He leaned forward, looking up at Dolarhyde’s horrible expression. “Tell me, what ways have you attempted to appease the Dragon’s sexual appetite?”
Relationships: Francis Dolarhyde/Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Kudos: 26





	Transformation

**Author's Note:**

> please excuse any mistakes with the narrative, i wrote this while i was horny and stoned and my friends convinced me to publish it

Dolarhyde had been very careful about the things he said about the Dragon when he spoke about it with Dr. Lecter. In the beginning, he’d never so much as dreamed about telling someone about it, because he knew no one would ever understand. He knew everyone ridiculed him behind his back, knew they were disgusted by his deformed face, and his life would only be worse if someone he couldn’t trust found out about this relationship. When he received the opportunity to tell Dr. Lecter, though, he knew he couldn’t pass it up.

Someone like Dr. Lecter would understand. Dr. Lecter could help.

Dr. Lecter always helped with his transformation. He always encouraged that Dolarhyde change families to help him become one with the Dragon. He always listened to him when Dolarhyde talked about the sheer power he felt when he merely thought about the Dragon. He also understood when Dolarhyde talked about his sexuality.

Dolarhyde had told Hannibal that the Dragon made him feel powerful, but he also told him how he “gave in” to the Dragon to appease its sexual appetite.

“What would the Dragon do if he could not have you?,” Hannibal asked, legs crossed and expression easy.

“He would...have others instead.”

“Do you make yourself to be a martyr? Your body and heart are being sacrificed to the Dragon, to keep the beast at bay. Do you feel as though it brings more suffering to your already morbid life?”

Dolarhyde was quiet, for a moment. “N-no. No, I don’t see myself...suffering.”

Hannibal tilted his head. “You enjoy it, then. You enjoy relinquishing all control to the demon that haunts your soul. The Dragon might bring you sorrow in other aspects, but sexually, you want to submit.”

Dolarhyde’s chest hurt, and he began to feel the cloying breath of anxiety filling his lungs. No, no, he didn’t want to talk about this. He didn’t want Hannibal to know he was a freak, didn’t want him to judge him, and end their “sessions”. Hannibal was the one person that could never know about the things he did for the Dragon.

But Hannibal didn’t seem disconcerted or put off in any way, even as the pieces aligned themselves before his eyes. He leaned forward, looking up at Dolarhyde’s horrible expression. “Tell me, what ways have you attempted to appease the Dragon’s sexual appetite?”

From there, Dolarhyde told Hannibal everything. He told him about the ways he would self-harm for the Dragon, showing Hannibal the cuts on his wrists, then on his dick. His penis was mutilated, covered with scars new and old, and Hannibal had asked how sensitive it was, how much he could still feel. Without any hesitation, Hannibal reached out, and began stroking Dolarhyde’s hideous penis with his hand, still asking him questions about his masochism.

Hannibal asked him how long he had been cutting himself, and Dolarhyde couldn’t answer. He then asked about his older cuts, asking if he gave those to himself before he’d met the Dragon, and Dolarhyde still could only moan at the hand stroking his penis. Hannibal began murmuring in his ear, and asked him if they were from his Grandmother, and Dolarhyde spilled himself right in his therapist’s hand.

Hannibal gradually began introducing sexual stimulation into his sessions with Dolarhyde, and it made Dolarhyde want to escape. He was so scared of himself, of being with someone who wasn’t the Dragon, and he was scared of the ways his body would feel. He ultimately always went along with it though, no matter how much it scared him, because Dolarhyde wanted to be a good boy.

Hannibal would pull him into his lap, between his legs, and stroke his mutilated dick while asking him about his childhood. He told him he must have been a very bright boy, and Dolarhyde would sob at his praise. When the conversation went to his Grandmother, Dolarhyde would always begin convulsing and gripped the sides of the chaise they were seated in. Hannibal could be asking him the ways his Grandmother hit him, or wounded him, or threatened to scar him; he could be asking about the way his Grandmother would tell him she would cut his penis off; and Dolarhyde would just be crying from how aroused this was making him.

Dolarhyde always orgasmed when Hannibal would talk about the abuse his genitals have endured. When Hannibal would be caressing his penis with the gentlest of touches, he always promised Dolarhyde that he would have it removed, for being such a good boy.

Hannibal eventually began focusing less and less on the things the Dragon asked of Dolarhyde in the present moment, and rather, Hannibal began discussing more and more the sexual aspect of the Dragon, as well as Dolarhyde’s self-harm. Their sessions involved less psychotherapy, and more of Hannibal touching Dolarhyde, whispering loving praise and frightening promises, and pleasuring him to the point of heartache and tears. At some point, this became all their visits would consist of.

One visit in particular had Dolarhyde enter Hannibal’s office, and Hannibal was holding a curved linoleum knife, and his lap spread and inviting. He patted his thigh with his empty hand, inviting Dolarhyde to sit in Daddy’s lap like the good boy he’d been so far.

“Come, Francis,” Hannibal had taken to calling him.

“What’s--the knife?” He felt completely frozen in place, and he felt a dark confliction in his chest.

Hannibal tilted his head. “Daddy is going to give special attention to your private parts.” He rotated the knife, letting the clean blade glisten in the lighting of the room.

Dolarhyde had almost immediately went over to Hannibal, the immediate arousal so intense that it caused blood to already rush to his loins. He climbed into his Daddy’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck and spreading his legs. He was breathing so hard, like a prey animal caught in a trap. He happily accepted Daddy’s kisses, moaning and gasping against his lips as Hannibal slid his pants and underwear down, revealing the horrifically scarred organ that had already begun to thicken.

“You have been such a good boy for me, Francis,” Hannibal said, his voice so smooth and easy. He knew the level of control he had over Dolarhyde, who despite trembling terribly, was growing increasingly aroused. “You’ve always done exactly what Daddy says, and now, he wants to give his boy a treat.”

“Are you--going to cut it off?” His voice quivered, and fear was strikingly clear on his face, but he made no attempt to move out of Hannibal’s lap, out of imminent danger. His penis continued to swell.

“I love looking at your private parts, Francis.” He moved the knife closer to the base of his dick, and Dolarhyde whimpered and went rigid. “You’re a very good boy for always showing them to me. I always like to see the new scars you’re able to show me, but I cannot help but feel remiss at the missed opportunity of being able to leave those marks, myself.”

Dolarhyde felt the sharpness of the blade begin to dig into his incredibly tender flesh, and he hitched, twitched, and began to breathe harder and harder. He was so aroused.

Hannibal looked into Dolarhyde’s eyes, his expression filled with curiosity, but as well as a terrifying evil. “Would you let Daddy ruin your genitals further?”

Dolarhyde helplessly and excitedly shook his head, and even though his face contorted into one of pain and agony, he felt nothing but pure, powerful pleasure exploding from his penis and wracking the nerve endings throughout his entire body as the knife cut further into his organ, enough to draw blood, tears, and an erotic whine. Hannibal leaned forward and slipped his tongue into Dolarhyde’s mouth, his son’s mouth, and languidly stroked and invaded and dominated him through his kiss, as he dragged the knife through his flesh, and created a new wound.

Dolarhyde cried harder than he had in a long time, and the pain felt so much worse when someone else was delivering it, but he only held Hannibal’s lips to his own, and he spread his trembling legs wider as his penis was mutilated once more.

At some point, when scheduling the next visit after having lacerated Dolarhyde’s most delicate flesh and helped him clean up the blood, Hannibal had announced that his next session would be a joint session with another one of his patients, and as Dolarhyde tried to sit up, he suddenly felt panic.

“What kind of...session, Dr. Lecter.”

Hannibal turned to him as he readjusted his tie that had become loose. “Another one of my patients has had an awakening of his own. I have been assisting him for some time now with coming to terms with this awakening, and I have encouraged his personal transformation, much like I have with yours. I feel that a session with the two of you together would be very beneficial for both of your developments.”

“Is it...normal...therapy?”

Hannibal faced him directly. “When, dear Francis, have my methods ever been orthodox?”

There wasn’t a moment where Dolarhyde considered not attending his next session with Dr. Lecter, because no matter how frightening, no matter how painful, no matter how scarring his treatment was, Dr. Lecter always did what was best for his patient. Even if he was terrified of his face being seen by someone else, of someone else judging him for his disgusting appearance, and of someone else hearing him struggle with speaking and ridiculing him for not even knowing how to talk, he knew that Hannibal would only do what was best for him.

When he arrived, the other man was Will Graham. He only glanced up at Dolarhyde, seeming barely concerned by Dolarhyde’s presence, before looking back at Hannibal, the two of them sharing an intense gaze.

Dolarhyde only knew Will from the articles he’d read in the newspaper. He knew Will was a killer, and by him being there with the two of them, he realized, then, that Will was the same as him.

Hannibal then turned his head up to Dolarhyde, and patted his thigh as he spread his legs, silently asking Dolarhyde to sit with Daddy. Dolarhyde looked at Will, who only regarded the two of them with a serious, silent expression, before he climbed into Hannibal’s lap, taking his rightful place. Hannibal wrapped an arm around Dolarhyde’s waist, and he wore a playful smile on his face.

“Last time, you will remember that I mentioned a patient I had been working with for a while, now. Another patient undergoing his own transformation, trying to become the thing he was destined to be. I feel that, independently, the two of you have reached points in your development where additional treatment is required.”

Neither Dolarhyde nor Will said anything. Hannibal pulled out the same curved linoleum knife he’d always used during Dolarhyde’s therapy.

“Francis, through ongoing treatment, I have helped you become more and more like the beast you envision yourself to be. You have changed others, Francis, and now it is time to change yourself.”

He handed the knife to Will, who readily received it.

“Will, here, is another patient of mine. You may already be familiar with him; regardless, I find that his recovery is happening too slowly for my liking.” He continued to speak as he removed Dolarhyde’s pants, causing the man to go rigid with fear once more. “His empathy, one might say, is causing him many problems during his treatment. I believe that an exercise such as this one might allow him to overcome any unnecessary walls his mind has built up in an attempt to keep his true nature safely contained.”

Dolarhyde’s penis was now exposed, as his lower body was completely exposed. Hannibal took to removing his jacket and tanktop underneath as well, with Will looking at Dolarhyde’s genitals, his expression not changing.

“This exercise is crucial to your growth, as well, Francis.”

Dolarhyde was then entirely nude. He was an animal that knew it was about to be devoured by its captors.

“You asked me before, Francis,” Hannibal said as he began to hold Dolarhyde’s penis, lifting it to expose his ball sack, “if I had plans for removing your sex organs. I find that when it comes to assuming a biblical form, it is generally of the utmost importance to be of an undefinable gender. Angels and demons, in antiquity, are not given sexual characteristics; what need do God’s servants have of procreation? In that same vein, what need does the Dragon have of procreation?”

Dolarhyde was trembling so terribly, and he gripped the arms of the chaise to try to steady himself and his heartbeat. Hannibal had begun stroking his dick, and Dolarhyde wished so desperately that he could clench his legs shut.

“The Dragon,” Hannibal continued, “controls and dominates through strength of force, alone. Besides, from the things you’ve told me, would the Dragon feel honored to have a thrall such as you if your sexual desires had a chance of interfering with your veneration?”

Hannibal gave Dolarhyde a chance to answer, but he simply shook his head, his eyes fixated on the knife in Will’s hand. Will had moved to stand between Dolarhyde’s legs, and he continued to stare at Dolarhyde’s dick in Hannibal’s hand.

Hannibal kissed Dolarhyde’s cheek. “Will is going to castrate you, Francis. You will let him remove your testicals with his knife, and you will no longer receive sexual gratification. I’ll give you one final orgasm, here in my lap, and once your climax is over, Will is going to perform your castration.”

“Please,” Dolarhyde whimpered, and Hannibal sealed his lips with his own.

Hannibal was gently stroking Dolarhyde’s dick like he always did during their sessions, kissing him deeply and slowly as if he were in no pressing hurry. Dolarhyde twitched and gasped under his ministrations, and he found himself spreading his legs more and more for Will. Will only leaned forward to begin mouthing over Dolarhyde’s jaw and ear, but even though his lips were awfully chapped, his kisses were just as delicate as Hannibal’s.

The two men showered Dolarhyde with attention and affection. Hannibal continued to stroke his penis, giving him a lazy handjob, and the two men alternated with Dolarhyde’s mouth, sharing him with one another. Will massaged his balls with his free hand, using the other to lightly press into the skin, teasing him the way Hannibal often would, while his tongue tried to climb into the back of his throat. Dolarhyde was so receptive of their touches and kisses, leaning up into the mouth of whichever man was on him, keeping his legs spread for them to dote upon his private parts like the good boy he was.

“Good boy,” Will breathed into the kiss. “Such a good boy for us.”

“I’ll a-alw-ways be g-g-good f-for D-Dad-ddy’s f-fr-ie-en-nd--”

Will shushed him, and continued to kiss him as he used the knife to cut along the underside of his testicals. He was so tender and loving. Dolarhyde was so grateful.

Hannibal pulled Dolarhyde away from Will’s lips to recapture him with his own. “Francis is Daddy’s very special boy.”

Dolarhyde’s dick twitched, and more precum drooled from the tip. He nodded desperately.

“You will always be a good son for Daddy, even after we’ve removed your genitals.”

“I l-lov-ve y-you, D-Da--Dad-ddy--” He was getting closer and closer, and he had no idea what was happening.

“Show us your love, Francis,” Will said, breath hot against Dolarhyde’s ear.

It never took very much for Dolarhyde to reach his climax. He went so much of his life without ever receiving touch from anyone else, so it was always a matter of minutes with Hannibal, and it was always premature. Hannibal continued to kiss Dolarhyde, slowly, gingerly, as his hand only slightly increased the pace. He was acting the same as he always did during their sessions, and treating this orgasm like it was the same as any other. Hannibal was going slow, not rushing it, and acting as though this were a simple favor.

Dolarhyde trembled as though he were having a seizure, and as Hannibal and Will continued to kiss him, he eventually peaked after a few more moments, and he breathed harshly through his nose, he whine into Hannibal’s lips, and his body quivered and quaked as his final orgasmed racked through his body, and his penis lazily dribbled out his semen with as little concern as Hannibal’s hand had on his dick. He continued to stroke him, milking him one final time, kissing him through it, and as his semen had ceased flowing, Hannibal pulled away for the briefest of moments.

“Go ahead, Will.”

He held Dolarhyde’s penis out of the way with his hand, and his arm wrapped itself tightly around Dolarhyde’s torso, his hand gripping his jaw to keep him trapped in place, trapped between his lips. Will kissed his neck, making love to it with his mouth, as he took the knife he had received from Hannibal, pressed it underneath his ball sack where the organ met his body, and used force to cut the knife upwards, separating his testicles from his body, and effectively castrating Francis Dolarhyde.

Dolarhyde screamed, he sobbed horribly into Hannibal’s gentle, loving mouth, and his fingers threatened to tear up the expensive upholstery on the arms of the chaise. He could feel his groin on fire, his nerves flaring up from having been severed, and he felt the red hot blood flowing from his gaping wound, painting his legs and the furniture and the carpet in Dr. Lecter’s office with his draconic blood.

The two of them would not stop kissing Dolarhyde. The pain was making him delirious, and his screams were muffled as Hannibal continued to assault and rape his mouth. He was on the verge of losing total consciousness, but despite all this, the only thing he could truly focus on was the extreme pleasure permeating from the back of his mind.

He did a good job. He did just what Daddy said, and now he was a good boy for it. It’s okay that his balls were gone; all that mattered was Daddy and the Dragon were happy with him.

“You are very beautiful, Francis,” he heard his Daddy say as everything was becoming black. “Thank you for letting Daddy’s friend castrate you; you’re a very good boy for it.”

Dolarhyde smiled.

“Perhaps sometime in the future, you’ll allow him to completely remove your genitalia.”

Dolarhyde felt once last kiss from Daddy.

“Annyfng f’r D’ddy.”

One step closer to becoming the Dragon.


End file.
